Page 52 of Devil and the Deep Blue Fish

It would not be the worst or the weirdest thing she’d ever done.

After the first few steps, Cody’s shoulders slumped, and he pulled his head down, eyes toward his feet, gaze shifting restlessly from right to left.

Jackson was pulled immediately to the first night they’d met, when this had been Cody’s habitual walk, his junkie’sshuffle, and he was both startled by how far the laughing young man had come and saddened by the things he’d been through.

And really grateful that Cody had been so eager to use his painful experience to help Jackson’s mission. With a brief nod, Jackson passed Cody up and strode purposefully toward the main entrance of the place, full of “official business” so he could question Cora, the surprisingly compliant facilities director.

The smell hit Jackson first—stale cigarette smoke, Lysol, and urine. He glanced around and realized that the bright stucco exterior of the place had been the best kept area of the building. The interior had once been just as bright, with laminate floors that were now warping from too much moisture at the seams, and water stains creeping up the yellowing walls. The podium in the front was battered, and the Plexiglas barrier had divots in it that served as old scars of violence. Down the hall to Jackson’s left, he was aware of the door opening, and he heard Cody’s voice at its most defeated, asking if there was a meeting he could go to, a person he could see. He was directed to a meeting in session right as the tired young woman at the reception desk was able to set her phone in its cradle and give Jackson her attention.

Tiny and Black, she had an entire swing of heavy braids, threaded with bright white and tipped with beads, and from watching Jade’s attention to her own beauty regimen, Jackson knew what a big deal that was in time, money, and maintenance. Her round dark eyes were playfully made up, with sparkles in the corner on bold gold shadow, and her nails, while cut practically short, were tipped with sparkly acrylics. Her full lips summoned a smile from what looked to be the depths of the woman’s toes and the bottom of a long day, and Jackson felt himself lifted.

“Can I help you?”

“First,” he told her, “can I just say you are absolutely stunning? I’m not hitting on you, but that much beauty needsto be appreciated. Thank you so much for your smileandyour style.”

The smile blossomed. “It’s a good thing you’re not hitting on me,” she said coquettishly, “because my girlfriend would object, but boy, did I need a compliment about now.”

“Long day and hard job?” he asked sympathetically.

“Yeah.” She sighed. “It’s… it’s a tough gig, you know? You get the degree in social work to help, but you get paid about enough to feed your cat and keep your phone so you can mooch off your mom.”

“And the job’s hard,” he said, confirming what he knew to be true.

“And the job’s hard,” she agreed. Her eyes darted left and right. “And this place is falling apart. But I bet that’s not a surprise.”

“I did notice some things,” Jackson said softly. “I thought the state just gave you guys money.”

She nodded. “Theydid, and our director has been filing the paperwork to get some. But….” She scowled. “There’s some people in the way. Something about permits and such, but they’re not in the neighborhood—they just blocked our shit up, and I swear, Cora’s getting desperate. One of them fucking people’s here every goddamned day, poking her nose where it doesn’t belong, and Cora bows down and kisses the ring so she can get money for internal repairs, supplies, hell, for two more counselors and someone to help me out. And that bitch—”

Jackson saw the moment it occurred to his new friend that she was talking out of school and gave her a gentle nudge. “What’s she done now?” he asked.

“She showed up this morning, looking like death,” the woman hissed. “I’d say she was jonesing, but there was bloodeverywhere.Anyway, Cora took her in and is dressing her wound and shit, and this woman’shorrible.I’ve heard addicts infull withdrawals not vomit this much bullshit. No Black people, no gay people—I heard her screaming down the fucking hall about how we better not let no ‘dykes or fags’ touch her. And every other thing. I told Cora my gay Black ass was fuckingoutof there, but”—her eyes watered—“Cora let me go. Told me I should keep everybody else away too. She loves this place. I think she made a deal with the devil to keep it from falling completely apart, and I don’t know what to do.”

“Oh, honey,” Jackson told her, hating the Plexiglas partition. It was obvious his new friend had been on the edge of venting and crying all day, and Jackson had given her the opening she needed. “Don’t cry, baby—your eye sparkles will get in your eyes, and my sister tells me that’s the fucking worst.”

“You’ve got a sister who wears falsies?” she sniffled, carefully wiping under her eyeliner with a tissue.

“Well,” Jackson said with a wink, “she looks a little more like your sister than mine, but we’d die for each other. Her twin brother too. We stopped explaining to folks back in high school.”

“Doesn’t matter, does it?” she said, with another sniff to pull herself together. “What folks think. When someone’s your person, no matter what kind of person, that’s ride or die right there.”

“It is,” Jackson said softly. “You got a ride or die who will come here and watch your back for a few days?”

The girl—woman, she was probably Jackson’s age, but all of that bright hope and possibility in her presentation and he thought of her as young—stared at him in surprise.

“My girlfriend,” she said after a moment. “She works security at the courthouse. Why?”

Jackson shrugged uneasily. “Because your instincts are right on about the woman your friend is helping—and about making a deal with the devil. I need to go see this woman in person, and then I’m going to call the police, because she’s donebad things. But I don’t have any proof that her people will stop bothering you once she’s gone, do you understand?”

The woman’s mouth parted slightly. “You can get rid of her?” she asked. “We have security, but Cora insisted she take the risk alone. And we don’t have much. We keep them at the back and side doors.”

Jackson nodded and reached into his pocket for a card. “Okay, hon—”

She flashed him a quick lifesaving grin. “Honey,” she said with a little laugh. “I’m Honey Barker. My mom said I was sweet when I came out, but Honey was a natural sweetness.”

Jackson was startled into his own grin, and much like his time on the couch with Clive, his new aggressive boyfriend, this moment gave him some backbone and some purpose.

“You’re still sweet,” he teased. “I’m Jackson Rivers, and this is my card. I work for a defense attorney—”

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